Day: July 12, 2016

Two interesting new people have entered our lives, Donna and Treasure, they brought Izzy to us and might be giving us another Romney – we’re going to take a look at her tomorrow. Donna’s friend, who owned the sheep, had to move suddenly, the sheep all need homes. Donna works at the hardware store, her friend Treasure is a gardener.

They offered to help us safety-proof our pasture gate so there will be no animal escapes. Equines like ponies and donkeys are eerily observant and clever, the grass is always greener on the other side for them, and if they can find a way to slip out of the gate they will.

Because we live on a state highway, animal escapes are serious.  The death of the bear two weeks ago reinforced the danger of the road. The animals could easily be killed and so could the people who might crash into them. All farms have animal escapes, to some degree they are unavoidable. But if there is any way to avoid them, we are making sure to try.

The pasture gate now has a spring so that it automatically closes, and a wooden bar to keep it from opening out. If the animals nose against the gate, it won’t go anywhere, and there is now no danger of it simply blowing or sliding open.

People sometimes don’t understand that no farm is escape-proof, it just isn’t possible. Animals are big, savvy, curious and often hungry. Fences are long, expensive, and vulnerable to many things. Our fences are built to keep animals in, so far that has been the case. We mean to keep it that way.

Donna and Treasure are handy and competent. Good people to get to know. Donna works at the hardware store, she and Treasure are passionate animal lovers, they were blown away by Red. And laughed, of course, at Fate and her antics. Every week, i do a safety walk around the farm making sure we are right and buttoned up. On a farm, you have to worry about keeping things out as much as keeping them in.

Aside from the early Zelda  escapes, carried out before the new fencing was fully installed, nobody has gotten out, nobody has gotten in (some deer maybe, and we find coyote scat once in awhile in the outer pasture). A record I mean to keep.

From the first, Izzy and Zelda seemed to bond. The imperious Zelda, the undisputed Queen of the flock, came right up to Izzy, sniffed her, stood by her, the two have been together all day, even in the Pole Barn.  All day, whenever Izzy was confused, she would turn to Zelda, who seemed to comfort her.

We think we have a good chance to have Izzy shorn on Thursday, she will be much more comfortable. And Maria is considering bringing another Romney, a white ewe, into the flock. We’ll know about that tomorrow. It’s good to have some new animals here, to get to know.

When I think of my friend Jay Bridge, I think of the day when the radiator pipe burst in my study in the middle of that awful winter of 2015. We heard the sound of water gushing – we were eating lunch – and ran to my office. We struggled to figure out where the water turnoff in the basement was, we tried to mop up the gushing water as best we could. We could barely keep up. I crawled around the basement turning knobs, and finally turned the water off.

I ran to the phone and called Jay. Jay is what I call a big man in a truck, but he is not like most of the big men in  trucks. He is shy, very quiet. He is former engineer who left that life behind to come to the country, be with his family, raise sheep, run a farm, and be a carpenter and craftsperson.

Jay does not stand around talking much, like some of the big men in trucks, who love to grunt and grumble. He does not gossip, nor make much small talk.

When I called him that day, he said he would be over as soon as he finished lunch with his wife Judy. He comes home to lunch with July every day. no matter what.

Jay has tea most days, and I’m not sure he would skip tea if the farmhouse was on fire. Jay doesn’t take every job he’s offered, they have to interest him. He’ll just say “that’s not really for me.”

What he does, he does perfectly and thoroughly. And reasonably.  He almost always has a wry smile, as if he has seen a lot of the world, and is surprised by nothing much. He hops up and down ladders, crawls over roofs.

He tiled our bathroom and kitchen floor. He rebuilt our rotting porch.

Like me, Jay had open heart surgery some years ago, he is fully recovered active and strong.

When Jay came the day the pipes broke, he went into my office, cut the broken pipe, went to the hardware store and replaced it, and tinkered with the water lines in the basement. He was gone in an hour-and-a-half, charged about $120 dollars. We were nearly breathless with gratitude, it could so easily have been a much more expensive disaster.

Jay is always calm and steady.

He usually works on class stuff, work that requires some craftmanship.

He is coming back to the farm to replace broken slate on the roof, take off the green shutters (they were not used when the farmhouse were built, they are simply ornamental, put on during the period when old farmhouses were trying to look like Colonial homes in the 1950’s our farmhouse is returning to its natural state), and see if the space between the dining room and the living room can be rebuilt and opened up.

Two of our shutters are the wrong size – the painters put them up that way – and the sight of them drives Maria crazy. We dont’ really need them, they have no natural function.

Jay and I go to lunch once in a while, he is thoughtful, intelligent, his eyes curious. He is a good listener. He does not say too much, but he has a wonderful dry sense of humor, and a deep love of culture and the arts. I find him very easy to talk do, I do much of the talking.

He is one of those men who doesn’t talk too much, but what he says is worth listening to.

I’m including him in my portrait show, “Cambridge People.” I think his face has enormous character, always a good subject for a portrait.

Izzy is the newest member of the Bedlam Farm family, she is a three-year old Romney, a good wool sheep, she badly needed a home, and she badly needs shearing. I’m on the phone tracking some shearers down, there’s a good chance of finding one by the end of the week.

Izzy is a grounded sheep, she’s a bit anxious around us, but not terrified, she reminds me of Ma, our sweet dumb sheep who died a year or so ago. Izzy has character, she likes to look people in the eye. Chloe chased her off for a few hours, then got used to her. I can hardly bear to see sheep in the summer with so much wool hanging off their bodies, it makes me uneasy. We’ll take care of her. Izzy has attached to Zelda, the two are already inseparable.

I love to see my socks (and some of Maria’s) out on the clothesline. I sometimes think I married a fairy, she uses her artistic powers to whiz through my life and brighten it, sometimes in small ways, something in big ways, from windowsills to walls to gardens to my feet.  I am too slow and dim to grasp it sometimes, I have to stand back and look at those socks, and think, “wow! Where did they come from, and why am I wearing them, and why did it take me so long?”